


Relationships

by BorkMork



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Basically a quick look into Steven's mind that I wrote for a cool peep, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Queerplatonic Relationships, Steven-Centric POV, questioning relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:42:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22138756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BorkMork/pseuds/BorkMork
Summary: A look into Steven's perspective as he dances with his jam bud, Connie Maheswaran.Based on this post: https://starlightandust-marejai.tumblr.com/post/190042752580/confession-time-i-was-never-really-into
Relationships: Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe
Comments: 10
Kudos: 77





	Relationships

Relationships.

Steven always loved the concept of them, that was for certain. Familial, the kind where you could rest your shoulder on a parent and listen to the day with no worry in sight. Platonic, with the hug of a close friend on times where you just crave the contact, knowing that they’ll be there for you if you ask for a moment in their arms. Romantic, the kind that could endure the hardships with the skip of one’s heart — the wanting to be independent and conjoined a promise on each other’s lips.

However, even with these different relationships, he always wondered what the difference was between all of them. 

There were notable lines. He knew that people had boundaries and their own definitions, but what was universal to his own experience? Every relationship was different, akin to a fusion with their own namesake, pronouns, experience, and facial features. He couldn’t dictate the definition of something for everyone, and that was the worry on his mind when he brought his gaze to the woman in front of him.

They were slow dancing. He and his partner (his jam bud, his one-in-a-million experience) Connie Maheswaran, kept to the silent beat; their world at a standstill. The beach was radiant under curtains of moonlight, surrounding them in soft hues as their eyes gleamed over in distracted haze — keeping their pace slow and steady, their smiles lit like embers on a wholehearted December. Both couldn’t stop giggling. How could they not? Especially on a beautiful night such as this? Where the waters washed ashore in taming sound and their previous footprints (leading away from the party) flushed away, remnants of what was once there reminding them of their quiet stroll minutes prior.

It was simple, their rhythm. Nothing pushed or ebbed too far, nothing fiddled them together like artificial touches; it was perfect, symphonic, their own little jig that no one could ever replicate because, well, they knew the nuances to it all — the shimmy of his shoulders, the nestle of her head against the boy’s shoulder, sweet little whispers that radiated of pop culture references and adoration. Bubbling of love, respect, regard.

The question was still there, however, lodged in his mind like a pin to a corkboard. Who are they, together, in the grand scheme of things?

He wasn’t the type to question who they were as a duo because he had everything he wanted right there: an amazing, intelligent woman who could babble about the latest media without a skip in her dialogue; who could cuddle him in bed without worrying much about her appearance or the way she leaned on him when her fatigue was too burdensome to ever transition into anything more than cheek kisses; the same one who took the Atlan weight off his shoulders without a hesitation in her mind and motivated him to push the boundaries of what was once improbable into the probable; the one who brought him the sincerity in moments of grey, passive atmosphere — when he wondered if he was worth it, and she would reply wholeheartedly that he truly was. But the inquiry still rooted itself, he couldn’t ignore it.

They kept their pace, their slow but meaningful dance. Watching the other, their giggles rang into symphonies of laughter, pure and light, enjoying the moment like they were conquering a mountain of the highest caliber.

Were they romantic? Were they platonic? Were they something in-between? Labels made it harder to believe that their dynamic could ever fit in something so simplistic and small. 

What if they were more?

What if they pulled at the band of limitation, plucking at it to see what sticks?

When this is all over, maybe they could finally talk?

Of who they want to be.

Questions. Communication. The spin and curtsy and dip of the other’s body, the other’s form, until the two fit their heads together in nestling affection. Puzzle pieces that connected at long last after years of wondering if they should make the first move, puzzle pieces that yearned for the click of decision.

“I love you,” was whispered into his ear. His heart spiked, trying to keep still as his legs became more akin to jelly. Keep calm, Universe, don’t cry.

He bit back a happy sob — tears pricking his eyes. “I love you too.”

Whatever they were, he knew that it was bigger than any label society could ever give them.


End file.
